


Hold My Hand

by satanic_panic



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanic_panic/pseuds/satanic_panic
Summary: Mando's not exactly the most affectionate in public.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader
Kudos: 72





	Hold My Hand

Mando was far from affectionate in public, the most you could ever get from him was the occasional hand on your waist but even then it was usually so he didn’t lose you in a crowd; you knew he cared, though, you knew from the little trinkets he often left on your bed, and the way he would wrap his cape around your shoulders when you shivered, and his gaze burned into you as he kept an eye on you. You felt guilty for wanting more, though, you felt guilty for wanting him to hold your hand and to just be a little more affectionate - even if he did pull you aside into alleys from time to time, just to press his forehead against yours. You never once complained about his helmet, even when it was so cold that it made your breath hitch in your throat, even when it felt like it was going to burn your skin when it was so hot. 

The two of you were in town, the sun hot and heavy, making the air thick and soupy and causing you to pull your bandanna up to cover your face so that you had space to breathe; Mando didn’t seem to mind the heat, even if you did think his armour was absolutely sweltering and that he was sweating bullets beneath it. There was no one around, a few people stopping at stalls here and there, but nothing more than that, the chatter they made with the owners of the stalls was soft and made a sweet melody. 

Looking up at Mando, you decided to take your chance, brushing your hand against his, but frowning when he retracted it and shook his head. 

“Not here.” It wasn’t a warning, or a request, it was a command. 

Frowning, you sighed. “Why not?” 

He didn’t answer, looking around and fixing his posture a little, making sure that he was a single step in front of you, but he soon turned back to look at you when he noticed your dejected mumble and saddened sulking; he didn’t like being affectionate in public, not at all, he knew the risks it could create, he knew that it would make you a target, which was the last thing he ever wanted. He fell back a couple of steps so that he was right beside you. He knew you felt guilty for wanting just a little more affection from him, and he wanted to give it to you, but he couldn’t help but to think of the risks. 

Reaching out, Mando grasped your hand, taking you by surprise as he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing gently to silently tell you that he wasn’t going to let go, this time. 

“Changed your mind?” You asked, looking up at him with curiosity. 

Mando sighed, but even you could tell that he was smiling a little behind his helmet. “Against my better judgement.” 

The silence that settled between you was comfortable, and when you started swinging your arm a little, Mando let out the quietest of chuckles, so low and beneath his breath his breath that it was near enough inaudible; he supposed there was a perk or two to holding your hand, especially when he realised how much easier it was to pull you closer when the crowds started to grow more dense, the feeling of you ducking beneath his arm so that it was over your shoulders, your hands still tangled together, was something he didn’t think he would revel in, but he couldn’t deny that he liked it… especially when you pressed yourself into his side to avoid a large group of people walking past you both. 

“Next time, just hold my fucking hand… please?” You asked, looking up at him, he could tell you were smiling beneath your bandanna from the way your eyes crinkled at the sides slightly. 

Mando nodded, humming in agreement; maybe the risks were worth the touch. 


End file.
